


Allergies

by unorigelnal (jayburding)



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:09:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayburding/pseuds/unorigelnal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this headcanon: Dick is allergic to cats. It used to not be much of a problem, pop a few pills if it was bothering him and be done with it. That is, until Damian decides to bring one, two, three (so on and so forth) cats home with him. Then it became a problem again. Despite this, he refuses to make Damian get rid of them, or even tell him (the rest of the clan has been asked not to mention it). Damian is so far unaware. Dick just doesn't want to deprive Damian of any happiness, no matter the cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Allergies

It was late enough to be early, but Tim still had work to do. The glory that was bed was looking more and more unlikely as he totalled everything he had to do. Sleep and vigilantism were hardly friends, though from the quiet in the Cave, it looked like even his fellow bats and birds had given up and gone upstairs.

Lucky them. He’d feel jealous of them when he could fit it into his schedule.

Tim’s heart nearly stopped when he rounded the corner and saw Dick curled up in the infirmary bed.

“Dick!”

Dick startled awake, practically throwing himself upright.

“What’s wrong?” he cried, distinctly bunged up, and immediately dissolved into a fit of sneezing as Tim arrived at his side. It took a few minutes and a wealth of tissues for the storm to subside.

“Hey Timmy,” he said, smiling pitifully as his swollen eyes streamed.

Tim remembered to breathe again. “Don’t do that to me,” he grumbled, dropping into the seat beside the bed with a huff. “I thought you were injured.”

“I’ll get myself hooked up to an IV if that’ll help.”

Tim scowled. “That’s not even vaguely funny.”

“Sorry,” Dick said, shuffling round so he could set his feet on the floor. “I’m not very funny when I’m tired.”

“Why on earth are you sleeping down here? You do remember you live in a mansion, right?”

“Guess I just went for the closest available bed,” Dick said, shrugging. Tim might have believed him, were it not for how awful he looked. And sounded for that matter: the low hum of tech in the Cave did not entirely mask the wheeze of Dick’s breathing.

Tim sighed. “Dick, you need to do something about the cats.”

“What? No. It’s fine.” He immediately refuted it by grabbing hastily for the tissues and exploding into another round of sneezing. Tim waited for him to finish, arms folded. His unimpressed expression would have made Bruce proud.

Dick tossed the tissues on the growing mound beside him. “They just got into my bedroom and I didn’t realise. Well, I did, but a little too late.”

“And thus why you sound seconds away from an asthma attack,” Tim retorted, wondering how many times Alfred had had this same argument with Dick. Not often enough, because Alfred would have succeeded in showing him what an idiot he was being.

“I’m not asthmatic,” Dick said, deliberately missing the point. “It’s not that bad.”

“Dick, the first time you met Catwoman you nearly went into anaphylactic shock.” And scared the ever loving crap out of Bruce and Selina in the process. “Don’t you think that having a menagerie of strays living in the Manor is pushing it? You’re going to make yourself ill. Hell, you already are ill!”

“But they make him so happy,” Dick said, and smiled as if one Robin’s particular love of cats somehow balanced out how awful he must feel, the fact that he was being made wretched in his own home.

“And they make you miserable,” Tim said.

“Just give it time,” Dick said, reaching for his umpteenth tissue to dab at his red eyes. “I’ll acclimatise and it won’t be so bad.”

“It’s been four months and you’re now sleeping in the Batcave,” Tim retorted, throwing his hands up in sheer frustration. Dick had to be the most ridiculous man Tim had ever had the misfortune of being acquainted with.

Dick smiled and reached out to catch hold of one of Tim’s hands, squeezing gently. It would have been more reassuring if he didn’t appear to be in floods of tears at that point.

“It’ll be fine, Tim. Don’t worry about me.”

Tim wasn’t convinced, but Dick wasn’t listening to him, so he’d leave it to Alfred to make the

“How many have you let Damian inflict on you anyway?” he asked, settling back into the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere, not with the grip Dick now had on his hand.

“He found another kitten last week. I think that’s seven now.”

“... you’re an idiot.”


End file.
